


The Drum Major's Always Right

by ThtGrnGntlmn



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Bisexual Ashton Irwin, M/M, Marching Band, altosax!michael, colorguard!luke, drumline!ashton, drummajor!calum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThtGrnGntlmn/pseuds/ThtGrnGntlmn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little sophomore Luke has his second band camp, but it's his first being a section leader. He's utterly terrified. Until he catches his eye on a new student in percussion who is seriously gorgeous. Too bad he's a senior.</p><p>OR the one where Luke is hella into Ash and drum-major-Calum is done with alto-sax-Michael's shit but there is an unrelenting mutual crush between them that's not so subtle.</p><p>-- originally published on my-5sos-babes.tumblr.com --</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Band Camp: Day 1

** Luke's POV **

"Alright, everyone! Welcome to your first day of band camp!" An enthusiastic cheer erupted from the nearly 150 odd band members crowded into their own individual sections. "So," Mr. Watkins, our band director, started, "put on your sunscreen then set up basics block."

I inhaled deeply and sighed, slathering on my SPF 100 sunscreen. The weather so far had been treating us well, seeing as it was just barely 9 in the morning. The grass was still dewy, the sun's brightness not reaching its full potential. It was almost beautiful, with how the colors erupted throughout the sky, vibrant and unforgiving; the hues of pink and orange overlapping subtly into fantastic shades.

But I knew that that wouldn't last long.

Picking up my flag, I made my way onto the practice field with my dot book. I marked myself off and set my stuff down to help my squadlets.

 _Wow. My own squad._  

I couldn't quite wrap my head around the fact that not only was I a squad leader but also a _section_ leader. I had to not only worry about myself now, but 13 other color guard members. To say it was a bit daunting would've been an understatement.

As I was marking off the last person in my squad, Trisha, a familiar voice came through a speaker off to my left.

" _Goooooood morning,_ kiddos! How you guys doin' this fine morning?" A loud whooping rose throughout the band, a loud yell escaping from me as well. "For those of you who do not yet know, I'm your drum major, Calum, and to my right is your other drum major, the amazing Lexi!"

I couldn't quite see Lexi through all of the students and instruments in the way--and since she was so petite--but I knew she would be beaming enthusiastically, just like always.

"Right, so we're gonna begin with some stretching," Calum said.

Stretches lasted about 10 minutes, which--to be completely honest-- is probably one of the best things about band camp. And lunch. Can't forget about lunch. I glanced at my watch. _Another 3 hours and 7 minutes till we get food._ _That's 187 minutes. I can deal with that._

We started off basics with simple forwards and backwards marching. Then we broke off into sections to discuss specifics like how  _your heels need to be a little higher while marking time_ and _no, you need to take 8 to 5 steps because you're getting to the line too early_ , also not forgetting that _your vocals need to be louder_. Next was sliding right, followed by sliding left, and breaking off into sections again. By the time we got to box drills _,_ it was nearly 11.

At this point, my throat was as dry as the Sahara. _Starting to wish I got one of those water-backpack things._

In that moment of weakness, though, Mr. Watkins voice came over the speaker. "Band, ten hut!"

A guttural 'HUN' resounded throughout the air as the band came to attention.

Mr. Watkins paused before he spoke again. "You guys look _awesome_." There was a grin in his voice. "Set your equipment down to your right; you've got yourselves a five minute water break."

I groaned, sending a silent 'thank you' to all the band gods. I walked off to the area guard had chosen to be their Designated Spot and spotted my own giant, red water jug. As soon as I picked it up, I started downing that shit. Like I haven't had something to drink in years.

Suddenly, a hand slapped me hard on my back. I spluttered and turned to scold whoever just cost me precious _l'eau_ , when I saw it was only Michael.

"Oh," I said disdainfully. "Hey, Mike." I took another swig.

Michael rolled his eyes with a playful smirk blossoming on his face. "Aw , c'mon. You still have, like, what, a whole gallon left? That's _plenty_."

I rolled my eyes back at him and stuck my tongue out. Mike and I _hated_ each other two years prior--for reasons I don't honestly remember-- until Calum made us get along. Eventually, we learned we weren't so different from each other, so there was no point in not being friends. Thus, we had grown very close, and we became a nearly inseparable--not only duo but--trio.

"Plus, you can refill your thing at lunch if you really want to," he continued, fiddling with his  neck strap. "But, y'know, it'd be easier to refill if it were _empty,_ but like, who knows, man. I don't know how soon you'll finish that, or even if you _will_ finish it..."

I sighed and shoved my jug into Michael's chest. He let out a quick squeal and was soon chugging like there was no tomorrow. He handed a mostly empty container back to me with a wink when he finished. "Thanks, man. Now I gotta go bother Cal."

He bro-patted me on the shoulder and hurried off, playing Careless Whisper on his sax as he did so. _Why am I friends with such a geek?_

I layered up on my sunscreen and leisurely began to walk back to my spot in our block. That was until Mr. Watkin announced, "Ninety seconds to be back in basics, ninety seconds."

The whole band went into a frenzy. Except for the flutes. Most of them usually decided to go at their own pace no matter how much it angered their section leaders.

I turned around and jogged backwards aways as I called out, "Hustle, color guard, hustle!" I would've been totally fine if I hadn't completely slammed into an innocent percussionist already on their dot. We both tumbled to the ground; I began apologizing profusely before I even saw who I hit.

"Oh, man, I'm so sorry, I should've been looking!"

"Dude, it's alright," the percussionist waved me off and stood, adjusting his snare drum. "I'm fine."

I squinted up at him, trying to see his face clearly; the sun shadowed most of his features. His voice was warm and light, so I obviously hadn't done any real harm. But it was also unfamiliar. 

As he leaned down and held out his arm,  I could finally see his face.

_Holy shit. He's hot as fuck._

I realized he had said something while holding out his arm, but I'd been too caught up in the  _Jesus he's hot_   thoughts for a while to notice.

"What? Sorry, didn't hear you, mate."

He laughed then. A magically, bubbly giggle. "D'ya need a hand?" He repeated, a wide grin plastered to his face. I uncertainly took his proffered hand in mine. With what seemed like very little strength, he tugged me to my feet.

"Sixty seconds!" Mr. Watkins called.

"Well," Snare Guy said, "better get back to your spot."

"Yeah. And, uh, sorry again for, knocking you over." I apologized, already backing away.

"No worries," he said kindly.

I pivoted on my heel as he repositioned himself and began thinking. All the way up to lunch I barely skirted along through the marching. I couldn't seem to shake Snare Guy away from my thoughts, as much as I wanted to. He was so _fucking_ gorgeous. Although, the main thought that had captivated my mind the most was this:

_Who the hell is that?_


	2. Oh, Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke get's to find out more about Snare Guy Ashton and Michael and Calum are literally married

I searched the lunch room for a good place to sit down and noticed one towards the back. I raced up there, saving two seats for Calum and Michael. I'd always been faster when it came to heading back to the school for lunch because I always wanted to be out of the heat for as long as it was physically possible. So I'd always save seats for my friends who took longer to get there (read: Cal and Mike).

I saw a flash of brilliant blue hair out of the corner of my eye and turned my head, flagging down my friend with a wave of my hand. As Mike made his way over towards me, I also saw Cal walk past the corner, talking to someone at his side. I couldn't tell who it was.

Calum laughed at what the other guy said and stepped back. _It's Snare Guy._

I asked Michael who SG was when he sat down next to me.

He briefly looked up from his sandwich, glanced over at the percussionist, and gave a non-committal shrug. "Dunno."

With that, he began scarfing down his lunch.

I turned away from Mike and peered up at Cal and the other guy from under my eyelashes; I didn't want to seem creepy. Calum jutted his thumb towards our table, causing me to avert my prying eyes. I glimpsed up again to see him walking this way, Snare Guy walking off in the opposite direction.

"'Sup, guys," Cal grinned as he sat down, opening his lunch bag. Him and Mike small talked for a few minutes as I picked at my goldfish my mum had packed me. Finally, I had to sate my curiosity.

"Hey, Calum," I said as the conversation began to switch gears.

"Yeah, bud?"

"Who was that guy? The one you were talking to when you came in here."

"Oh, um." He bit his lip, thinking. "That's Ashton. He's in drum line."

"Yeah, I know that," I said, straightening my back. Could still feel where I hit his snare. "But, like, is he new? I've never seen 'im before."

Cal nodded. "Yep. Just transferred a few weeks back."

I nodded, looking down at my food. I picked at it for a while longer when he said, "Why the sudden interest in Ashton?"

Shrugging, I took a bite of my ham and cheese sandwich. "No reason. Just saw 'im on the field, that's all."

"Oh, alright," Cal said. "If anything, you should go say hi to him. I don't think he's made many friends yet. He seems a little shy."

Michael made a scoffing-snort noise while shaking his head. "Yeah, sure thing. He seemed to be nice 'n shy around you. I think he was shaking in his boots."

Calum sighed. "Mikey, he's not that bad. Honestly. I don't get how you always assume everyone's bad before you meet them."

Michael and Cal bickered from then onward, comprising mostly of snide comments and bad comebacks. They were like this all the time; if they weren't arguing like a married couple, they were almost always in each other's space. They always seemed to be together, like, no matter what. Wanna hang out at Mike's place? _Oh, wait, Cal's here, too_. Wanna meet up at the park to play footie, Cal? _Yeah, sure, but Mikey's gonna be refereeing._ It was a rarity to not see them within a ten foot radius of each other. Under those times they aren't together is usually if their family is on vacation or if they had a huge falling out. Both of these occasions are few and far in between.

SometimesI wonder what would happen if they were separated indefinitely.

Would they learn to live with it? Or would they constantly be sad, moody, and depressed? It's one of those nagging questions in my mind that I don't ever want answered.

My thoughts wandered over to Ashton for the second time that day. He seemed really nice, so I'm not certain as to why he hasn't made friends yet. _Today must be the first time he's actually been here._

I checked my watch. _Still have 45 minutes left of lunch._

I stood up from my seat, muttering a quick, "I'll be right back," to Cal and Mike--who appeared startled by sudden movement--and started walking around to find Ashton. I knew what it was like to be friendless and I didn't want him to feel like that here.

I searched around for a bit, but he wasn't in the lunch room. Eventually I found him in the band room, studying a piece of music. His snare was resting on a drum stand, but he wasn't playing. His tongue was sticking out of his mouth ever so slightly in concentration. It was kind of... adorable, in an odd way.

I cleared my throat. "Hey, man." My voice sounded a bit deeper than normal.

Ashton jumped, his eyes focusing on me. "Oh, um... hey," he replied, scratching the back of his head. I could've sworn his face went a little pink.

I started before an awkward silence filled the mainly empty room. "So, uh, sorry, again for slammin' into you like that. Y'know. Earlier." I involuntarily twisted and untwisted my hands together as I spoke.

"Seriously, it's not that big a deal," Ashton simpered.

Now cue the awkward silence. At least for me, since Ashton turned back to his music, a bit more self-conscious now that he knew someone was in the room.

I mentally chastised myself for not bringing Calum along. He's always been better at human interaction than I have. But that mean he would've left a sulking Michael behind, and a sulking Michael isn't a fun Michael.

"So, whatcha doin'?" I asked, sauntering closer.

"I, um, I can't quite get this rhythm down and it's really bugging me." Ashton said sheepishly.

"Rhythm?" I considered this for a second. "Would you like some help? I'm pretty good at rhythm, actually." I focused my gaze on the sheet music when I got close enough to read it.

"Sure," Ashton said, "it's measure twenty-six and twenty-seven. I'm not sure why, but every time I play it, it sounds wrong."

"Mm," was what I responded with as I looked for those specific measures. I read over the notes, not quite understanding what was written there, but just enough to help with rhythm issues.

I went over the technical sound of what should be played in my head a few times before telling Ashton to play what he had been doing before I came into the room. The first few beats were fine until he reached the bar line.

"There!" I said. "Right at the end of measure twenty-six. You're making those sixteenth notes too long and it's running into the next measure. That's what's throwing you off."

Ashton stuck his tongue out again and played. I encouraged him as he got better, occasionally reiterating the technical rhythm when he messed up.  _Three-e-and-a, not three-and-and._  It barely took 3 minutes and he perfected it. Up to tempo, in fact. And that was saying something since that was the fastest song we played on field.

 "Thanks, man!" Ashton beamed.

I smiled back. "No problem." Pausing, I turned towards him and held out my hand . "I'm Luke, by the way."

"Ashton," he said, shaking my hand.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Calum and Michael were hunched together, Cal taking up my old seat, in deep discussion about something as I sat down with Ashton. 

I reached across the table to get my lunch box, which the golden duo had strewn aside in my absence and offered Ash some of the goodies in there. He turned them down and decided he wanted to get to know each other instead.

"So where're you from originally?" I questioned.

"I'm actually from here. Just moved schools."

"Why?" I asked dubiously.

"Didn't quite like it there." Ash replied. He adjusted the chain around his neck while he did so. "What about you, how long have you lived in Sydney?"

"My whole life, basically. So have these _dweebs._ The ones that are sitting _right_ across from us." My not-so-indirect-indirect caught Calum's attention.

"Huh? Sorry, we were discussing something important, right, Mike?" Michael was still focused on something on his phone. Cal indiscreetly elbowed him in the ribs. _"Right, Mike?"_

"Yes, right," Mike almost-shouted. It was always comical to watch Michael snap out of deep thought. He would get a mildly befuddled gleam in his eye that made him look a bit insane. "What're you right about?" He whispered while leaning in towards Calum.

"Michael, this is Ashton. Say hello."

Michael finally realized Ashton was sat with us, gave him a once-over and grunted a 'hey,' before going back to his phone. Cal and I exchanged a Look, both equally annoyed.

"Ashton," Calum picked up the conversation, "how you enjoying band camp so far?"

From that moment on, Ash talked very animatedly about marching band and music in general. It was all very cute to watch him get so excited about something as simple as band. As he spoke, I studied his character. He dimpled whenever he even vaguely smiled; he made hand gestures when he couldn't explain something properly; his eyes were always bright, full of life.

 _God, he's so gorgeous. A chiseled jawline, muscular arms, and curly, golden hair? Sign me_ the fuck _up._

I back-tracked at this inkling in my head.

_What the hell?_

It's not like I've ever classified myself as Strictly Straight, but I also never been like _this_.  I had always been dismissive when it came to romantic relationships, couldn't be bothered to try them out. Although, sometimes I would get a crush on some girl, but it was never serious. Most of the time when I thought a boy to be attractive, it would feel more along the lines of _Ooh, you got a nice face._ This was different.

Not to be cliché, of course.

It _was_ different,though. Instead of it just being an ooh-your-face-is-nice, it's more of a _holy-fucking-shitballs-make-out-with-me-right-now._

Maybe I was just over-thinking. After all, my sexuality had never been a top priority for me, _so why should it be now?_

I checked the time again to see we only have seven minutes left of lunch.

I groaned. "Ah, shit. Sectionals are comin' up."

The other made similar noises of annoyance and packed up their lunches. We were some of the last people in the lunch room. _Whoops_.

I trailed behind Mikey and Cal as the sped to the auditorium, falling in step with Ashton.

"You know you're welcome to join us any time," I told him.

"Okay," Ash said, suddenly very shy again. "But what about-?"

"Don't mind Michael. He's like that with every new person; not very trustworthy."

He nodded and said nothing else.

As we reached the auditorium, Ash spoke. "See ya on the field, yeah?"

I grinned in response. "Definitely."

With that, Ashton and I parted ways; he went to practice with the band and I went to go over dance work with the rest of color guard.

 

 


	3. The Chapter With the Water Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The traditional band camp water fight occurs. Luke is having a hard time not noticing shirtless-Ashton. And other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there was a bit of a time skip since band camp is the same thing every day

As tradition with our school's marching band, on the last day of band camp, we end our night with a giant water fight.

 Typically this water fight is always right after a dinner, but we didn't have any dinner this year, so we just went out and got our water guns ("or other water dispensing devices") and were told to have at it. Usually all the guys would take off their shirts halfway through the fight--which I definitely never opposed to. It's just that this year, I had to worry about someone else taking his shirt off. That one really attractive guy. Y'know, Ashton. Judging from his arms, I wouldn't be surprised to see that he has chiseled abs and amazing pecs as well. 

I found that after the water fight I'd always be super parched. I began thinking that after this particular fight, I'd be thirsty in more than one way.

Pushing that intruding thought aside, I made my way to the couple-thousand gallon water tank, my goal already set deep in my mind: _dunk Calum._

I tightened my grip on the water jug I had used all throughout the week and shoved through the throngs of eager band students. I was able to get through just fine, considering how lanky my limbs are. I towered over most of the kids, not just in band, but also in school. Sometimes it worked to my advantage... other times not so much.

I filled my _"water dispensing device"_  and stalked around, assessing who would be my first victim. Lo and behold, a very familiar, pasty white guy with unruly bed head came into my sights. While his back was turned, I sneaked up; I put a finger up to my lips when another saxophone saw me from over Michael's shoulder. He didn't miss a beat, stepping right back into the conversation effortlessly. 

When I was close enough, I let a cave-man-like screech rip through the air and dumped my water right over the top of Michael's head. I back-tracked a few paces, waiting for a retaliation. Instead, Mike pivoted on his heel, glaring daggers right through me, into my soul. 

_I fucked up._

Michael seethed. Literally. He seemed genuinely upset. "My phone," he spat, "is in my pocket."

Now, don't get me wrong. Mike is not a very intimidating person. Maybe a little when first meeting him, but he's not scary. He's just a cuddly squish-ball of love who likes constant physical contact.

Yet, in that rare moment, he came across as particularly dangerous. I feared for my life as Michael stared me down.

Out of nowhere, Mike's expression changed into one of pure joy as a giant grin replaced his awful sneer. And then?

" _Oh my God!_ " A shock of freezing water doused me from head to toe. Following the attack was Calum's bubbly giggle. " _Did you guys have that planned the whole time?_ "

Michael shrugged smugly and Cal's giggling got louder.

I stalked off to the water tank, readying my mind for revenge. I craned my neck to look over all the adrenaline-filled children. Further off in the grass, Ashton had a giant water gun and was chasing one of his section members, shrieking proudly as he did so. I swallowed thickly.

_No shirt._

I ignored that. After a gap opened up to the tank, I filled up my make-shift bucket and made my way to Ashton.

My hands were held up in surrender before Ash even noticed me. He approached me cautiously, not putting his water gun down completely.

"What do ya need, Hemmings?" Ashton challenges.

"I'm in need of a favor, Irwin."

"What is it?"

"Could you lend a hand in helping me dunk slash get revenge on Hood?"

Ashton paused, his water gun lowering a fraction of a centimeter. "Revenge on Hood?" He asked, a simper already appearing on his face. "I'm in."

 

By the end of the fight, Cal had been dunked--with the help of Ashton--three times, Mike once, and as for myself, I had been dunked four times. (Thanks a lot, traitor, a.k.a. Ashton.) I attempted dunking Ashton myself, but he was too sturdy. Too thick. _Nay. Thicc._  I think I pulled something while trying to pick him up.

Plus he was slippery. Like. _Extremely_ slippery. Almost as if he had oiled himself up. Like men back in Ancient Greece. Nice, hot oil...

Standing in the sun's setting glow, I could picture Ashton being from Ancient Greece. With his understated chest hair, ripped muscles; his hair long and flowing, his skin a delectable golden brown. In fact, he could almost be a Greek god. He was so ethereal, so god-like,  that I found myself slack-jawed at the sight. _So fucking gorgeous._

I shook my head, blinking a little. _Jesus Christ, this is Ashton, okay?  The Straightest of the Straights. The King of the Straights. The God of the Straights... A god..._

_..._

_Oh, fOR FUCK'S SAKE._

To say the least, I needed to get my shit together. Although, it's not like Ash ever explicitly told me he was straight, he's just always come off as this nice, but _no-homo_ dudebro. He genuinely was caring, just that if anything came off as remotely gay he would brush it aside with a, "Woah, dude."

Secretly hoping he's gay, though, because daddy needs a little action.

And by a little action, I mean someone to hold my hand. 

I'm not in short supply of a hand-holder; Michael's always more than willing to do so, but Boyfriend Calum typically gets jealous. Just to clarify, Calum and Michael are not dating. Many people _think_   they are, so when they ask Mike/Cal give the questioner a bemused look and say a stern _No_. I mean, it is kind of rude to assume that certain people are dating just because they're close, but I can see why people think that.

First of all, they are _constantly_ touching. Like I said, Michael is a very cuddly person, yet with Calum, they don't even have to think about it. Mike's tired? Cal will give him a shoulder to lean on. Mike's upset? Cal holds his hand or hugs him. Mike wants to take a nap? Cal will take a nap too, and let Michael spoon him. They'll even just be standing or sitting somewhere and they'll have their shoulders brushing against each other.

Second of all, they tell each other everything. Every. Single. Thing. Doesn't matter what it is. They will tell each other what's going on.

Third of all: pet names. It usually varies on their moods but some examples are _bud, buddy, honey, babe, cal-pal, mikey, callie,  munchkin, fuckwit..._ you get the idea. I actually think a lot of those names started as jokes, but soon Mike and Cal both started calling each other them un-ironically.

Anyways, dating or not, if Mike holds hands with anyone _but_   Calum, Cal will be upset. Basically, he'll be pouty and, in general, _reallllllly_ bitchy. Like pissed in his cornflakes or some shit like that. And it can get pretty annoying. This one time I was super stressed about an exam and Mike offered to hold my hand as I looked over my notes during lunch period. Of course, I took his hand in mine and he didn't really bother me unless I was struggling with an question on the study guide. Everything was going relatively fine until Calum smacked his lunch tray with very extreme force that was very unnecessary.

I flinched and looked up from my packet. "You okay?" I asked, my eyebrows scrunching together.

"Oh, yeah," Cal said in monotone, aggressively opening a cellophane package. "'M super-fucking-amazing." He turned his attention to his food. Mike and I shared a look, obviously oblivious to what was going through Calum's head. I'm not sure even Calum knew what was going through Calum's head. 

Cal didn't say another word through the whole of lunch. Now, not like Michael, Calum can be very intimidating. His Resting Bitch Face helps him a lot when he needs to be serious or scary. So for the rest of lunch, I was thoroughly freaked out, thinking Cal might flip the table we were sitting at.

When the bell rang, I thanked Michael and let go of his hand, since we had different classes. Then, after school got out, Calum was walking right with Michael, arm around his shoulders. As for me? He didn't even give me a second glance as I tagged along behind them as we walked home. That was one of the only times that Cal had straight up ignored my presence.

Basically, to sum it all up: even though they weren't dating, they _for sure_ were crushing on each other, hard.

Now I can't help but think that  _I_ might be crushing hard on somebody. I've known Ashton for maybe a week, but we've grown quite close in that short time frame. I'd see him before and after every day of band camp every day, and at lunch during camp. I've got to learn more about his life as he learned more about mine. As he would talk about himself, I would stare at his face, mesmerized. I began to look at the little things.

His dimples never really went away unless he was showing no emotion or wasn't talking. There were dark circles under his eyes that were incessant; usually his smile made them disappear, but they were prominent. Like he doesn't sleep well.

 _Wow,_ I thought one day, _I'm being way too observant. Time to take a hetero-pill._

He was always on my mind, as if he were gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe. If I don't tell someone about this I might scream.

I waddled back up to the school with Mike and Cal, trying to avoid awkward chaffing. Unluckily for Michael, he was having some trouble.

"Holy fuck, my nipples hurt."

Cal and I chuckled. "Wow, Mikey, have a rough time with your stripper last night?"

Mike shoved Calum off his shoulder playfully. "Fuck off, man."

Cal smirked good-naturedly and pat Mike on the back with a content sigh. In one swift movement, Michael was in a headlock, receiving a nuggie from Calum, who--just as quickly as he head-locked Mike-- was off in a flash; Michael chased after him, yelling several profanities as he went. I laughed to myself, watching those head-over-heel idiots chase each other in a frenzy.

_Those lovesick bastards._

Ashton appeared by my side out of nowhere then. "Ah, look at 'em. Cute."

"Mhm."

"Yeah, so could I have your phone number?"

My heart stuttered in my chest, threating to escape through my throat. I drew in a rattily breath before responding. "O-Oh, yeah, um sure. Why?"

"Just in case you wanna hang out, er something. That cool?"

"Yeah, that's cool, man."

We exchanged numbers as soon as we got inside, where our phones had been safely tucked away. As soon as Ashton said his final goodbye and exited the building, my face fell into my hands.

_Such a lovesick bastard._

 


	4. Performance Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first performance and Luke is getting some nervous energy that verges on an anxiety attack and the only person around at the time is someone who's never helped Luke through one: Ashton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so I just started school on the 6th so i'm kind of like dying right now but i'll try to update whenever possible. hopefully I can keep similar writing tracks by keeping up with my schoolwork but we'll see how long that'll last. anyways, please enjoy this chapter::: warning as well! If you are triggered by anything having to do with anxiety/panic attacks, this chapter might not be for you as there will be a few brief, vaguely colorful paragraphs about it. Thank you :)

** Luke's POV **

The cacophony of band students hits me as soon as I turn back down the band hallway, uniform in hand. I dodge the way of kids scrambling to get their uniforms on my way to the changing rooms.

"Could you zip me up?"

I round the corner to find Mike and Calum already getting dressed; Mike's bibs were a metaphor for his life: disheveled and awkward. Calum, however, seemed--even with only the drum major bibs--very well-put together. I thought I broke some sort of bib-zipping-up moment between the two of them when my hangers clanked onto the little clothing rail. They separated instantly, Michael adding space between their bodies, Cal scuffling forward just barely. I played the ignorant bystander by adding in a surprised, "Oh, hey guys," and got changing. Better to give the both of them the benefit of the doubt, considering. Happy couples or just _really good friends_ made me wanna barf.

Probably doesn't help the fact that I already felt queasy as it was.

I changed silently, my head a bit dizzy. I've always been like this before a performance. My nervous energy radiates around me constantly. Borders on anxiety. Occasionally, it has concerned a few people due to how extreme my anxiousness can get. You know. Anxiety attacks and shit. Usually the feeling passes as the performance starts. I'd be okay.

I walked to the short distance to the band room to get my flag and gloves and practiced a few spins before we set off in parade block. Spinning helps me calm down.

_One, two, three, drop. Two, two, three, single..._

There's a shrill whistle at directly 12 o'clock, which is my cue to gather up the strength to walk to our busses. _Inhale. Exhale. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Why won't I fucking calm down already? Jesus._

I attempted to distract myself with doing commands in my head, yet soon I couldn't; my uniform, comfy as it was, suddenly felt hot. From that point on I focused solely on even breathing and walking like a normal human being. I plopped down in the seat, my eyes trailing out the window. Someone sat next to me before we took off and I didn't bother to check who.

The bus ride passed by in a blur, everything kind of smudging together in my head. We arrived, and my brain went on auto pilot. I waited as the non-color guard members put on the rest of their uniforms on, due to the fact that color guard's had to be put on before we went anywhere. One pieces. Love 'em.

With all of the windows being covered up by rain jackets and everyone squeezed in so tight, the air was thick. Definitely with sweat. Instruments were being tuned over all the talking. It felt like a small, loud box. I groaned and hit my head against the seat in front of me, much to the discomfort of the people in said seat.

"You alright, bud?" Calum had sat next to me then. I nodded weakly, unable to bring myself to move from my position. "No, really," Cal said, tone serious. He nudged my side. "Are you okay?"

I turn my head and smiled lamely. "I'm fine. Always am."

He didn't seem convinced but turned away anyway, giving me the space I needed. Calum was thoughtful like that.

Thankfully a few minutes later the busses were cleared and the band went to warm up and prepare as a whole. I tried to make myself useful by going to the trailer to grab flags and weapons; I attempted to make my way through the crowd but was unsuccessful since I hit probably every person I passed on the way there.

Gently setting down the equipment, I drew in a gigantic breath, testing out a few exercises to ease my mind.

_In... Out... In... Out..._

A hand quickly came down onto my shoulder. My body tensed and my heart beat accelerated dramatically. "Hey, man, you okay? Sounds like you're giving birth over here."

_Shit. Shitshitshit I can't let Ashton see me like this. He'll think I'm a fucking freak._

I shrugged his hand off, and there was a disconcerted laugh. It slipped out of my mouth before I could really think about it, "Jesus Christ, I'm fine!"

I immediately regretted the words as soon as I said them. I made it worse, I made it worse, I made it worse.

"Okay," Ash surrendered, putting his hands in the air. "Sorry I asked."

"Wait, no, I'm sorry, Ashton. I didn't mean anything by it." I groped out for his arm but thought about how that could be misconstrued, so I tried to turn it into a simple hand gesture. It felt awkward. "I..." I struggled for words. "I'm just... I'm just really tired, okay? I didn't mean to snap at you."

Ashton remained silent for a few good moments afterwards. Finally, he said, "I understand." We kind of just looked at each other for what was probably longer than socially acceptable, but his gaze comforted me a bit, but it was also a bit disquieting. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head and looked away, ashamed. "Nah, it's... fine. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

I glanced back to see Ash nodding and biting his lip. He didn't move away though, which I found a bit odd. If anyone ever sees me like this, they always feel awkward and leave. Yet, Ashton didn't. It was comforting. I could feel myself almost smiling when--

"Make your way onto the field!"

My breath hitched in my throat. 

_Nononononono._

The levy broke, letting a flood of newfound anxiety through.

_Please no, not this._

My ears went completely deaf. My head spun. Hands went clammy, my heart was threating to burst through my ribcage. Soon, I could barely see anything but black walls closing in, and before I even realized what was happening, Ashton was catching me.

** Ashton's POV **

"Luke!"

I reached out for the younger boy before his body hit the ground.  I set him down carefully and knelt down in front of him. _Fuck, what the fuck am I supposed to do?_ I cussed to myself quietly, freaking the _fuck_ out because _what the hell is going on?_

Somehow, in the midst of whatever was happening, Luke managed to find my hand and grip it tightly. _So he's awake. Is this like an attack? Or...?_

I figured the best thing I could do was try to calm Luke down. I glanced down to see my fingers turning a light shade of purple

"Okay, um..." I worked at the inside of my lip. "Okay, Luke? Luke, can you hear me?"

He didn't respond. Or at least I didn't think he did until I felt circulation run back through my hand. _Talk to him. I can do that._

"Luke, buddy, listen to the sound of my voice, okay? Listen to my voice and nothing else. I'm right here. I'm real. You're okay, you're here..."

I rambled on, talking nonsense, _anything_ to ensure Luke was alright. His breathing evened slowly and steadily, his muscles relaxing.

"Um..." I began to falter at nonsense and decided to go in a new direction. "My full name is Ashton Fletcher Irwin, I'm eighteen... I have two younger siblings, Lauren and Harry. I love them both dearly. I, uh... I'm really into Blink-182, Green Day,  All Time Low..."

Not a minute later, Luke's eyes came back into focus. I could've passed out with joy, but thought that would be rather anticlimactic.

There was silence for a short while until--

"Did you say your middle name's _Fletcher?_ "

I chuckled triumphantly, and brought him in for a tight hug. "Yes, yes I did."

Luke laughed quietly, his arms limp at his sides.

"You really had me goin' there for a minute."

"I'm sorry."

I frowned. "It's not your fault," I said, rubbing his back. "Things happen, it's okay. All that matters is that you're fine."

I looked at Luke when I sat back, my hands resting on his shoulders. And I'm not really sure what came over me, but at that point, there was no stopping it.

My lips crashed into Luke's.

It lasted for maybe a second. Then I realized my mistake. I pulled away quickly, eyes wide in horror. His expression mirrored my own, also including a look of offense. 

"Oh, God, I'm-" I tried to apologize but at the same time, my section leader ran over, as well as Calum, and began dragging me away to the marching field. I glanced over my shoulder to see Cal talking to Luke in hushed tones. I lost sight of them as we rounded the corner.

In my head, my thoughts were running a million miles a second. The main concern:

_What the fuck did I just do?_

 


	5. Two Stupid Boys Have Problems With Their Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Ash reflect on previous actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so it's been a while. sorry. ANYWAYS, I got caught up in other stories and school and just kinda left this on its own. I have intentions on finishing it, but it's not my first priority. So here's a little fill chapter. Thanks for liking this too??? 'Cuz I think it's a little trash but it's whatever. btw, let me know what you guys think of the new album! I love it. Thanks xx

**Ashton's POV**

Well. You can mark that ordeal under  _ Ashton's Biggest Fuck-Ups of All Time _ . I don't know what compelled me to do such a stupid move, but it happened. Oh, boy, did it happen.

I don't have much time to truly process  _ what  _ happened though, as I'm being rushed onto the marching field, earning many disapproving glares from my fellow band mates as I try my best not to crash into them... I say glares, but it's more like changes in the placing of their eyebrows, since emotions in marching band is a no-go.

I find my place in the parade block and resume as if nothing had happened. Haha. Yep. Nothing. At all.

I attempt to clear my thoughts while we march into position on the field. Focus on my footing. Or my playing.  _ Oh, God, my playing is awful. Stay in time, dammit. It's not that hard.  _ I just need to pay my attention elsewhere. Keep it far away from my horrible, horrible decision. Like, literally anywhere else. Anywhere. Else. Like, think of the feeling of the green turf under my feet. Or the color of the sky.  _ Counting, that might work. Just count. _

_ 1-2-3-4, _

_ 2-2-3-4, _

_ 3-2-3-4, _

_ 4-2-3… _

_ FUCK. _

This is getting out of hand. If anyone could've knocked me out at that moment, I would have graciously taken a hit straight to the face. It would've been easier than trying to do this.

 

For the next few days after the ‘incident,’ I had low-key avoided Luke at any costs. I’m aware that this may seem like a dick move, but that’s only because it’s a dick move. I didn’t know what to do, to be honest. How does someone go about apologizing for making an abrupt and inappropriate display of affection? Especially when one’s masked any emotion they had for the other? I moved here because everyone at my old school knew I was bi and they all talked about me behind my back. That was the last thing I wanted to happen in a new place. I may be acting irrationally, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Luckily, we don’t have much need for interacting--band camp’s over; he’s in color guard, I’m in percussion; he’s a sophomore, I’m a senior.  _ God, I’m a senior. That’s even  _ worse _! Unluckily, _ though, I still absorbed into that circle somehow, and now I won’t know what to do when school actually starts. Do I sit with them and be awkward? Pretend it never happened? Or do I sit alone/in the bathroom stall? I don’t know which would be worse/make me feel more like an asshole.

To make it worse, Luke hadn’t reached out to me after that. I probably would have ignored those messages, anyways. It’s the principle of the matter, right? I think I truly, royally fucked up. I hope he doesn’t hate my guts.

 

**Luke’s POV**

_ Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit.  _ That  _ actually happened. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? Oh my god. _

That moment I came to was a blur at best, but there is no way in Hell that I imagined Ashton kissing me. Right? I mean, that’s not something my brain would make up. I don’t want to be wrong about all this, yet I don’t want to be right. I think. Because if it  _ didn’t  _ happen, Ashton  _ didn’t _ kiss me and that’s that. If it  _ did _ happen, he  _ kissed _ me--as soon as I was getting out of a spiral? Maybe both possibilities are equally as bad.

I didn’t have the stomach to call or message Ash, because of the previously mentioned reasons. Plus, if he didn’t, that’d be a weird question.

_ Hey, bud, I was only wondering if you kissed me the other night? Lol, thanks, pal. _

I think it’s weird in general, but that might just be me.

I kind of feel bad for not thanking him for coaxing me down from the ledge. We got separated pretty quickly, and coaxing isn't typically something that can be done that fast. Somehow, Ash did it.

I stared at the phone in my hand for a while before I felt too terrible to go on, and opened up a new message.

 

**Ashton’s POV**

My phone pings on my nightstand.

‘ _ Hey Ash, sorry for not getting to you sooner but I really appreciate what you did for me the other night.’ _

As I read the message, several thoughts cross my mind.

1: I helped him, and he’s grateful for it.

2: He messaged me, and apologized at the same time.

3: The message lacks emojis.

4: I can’t tell if he knows.

I type back a quick response.

‘ _ Don’t worry about it, bud! I’m glad you’re alright. :)’ _

I think for too long and send another message.

 

‘ _ If you don’t mind my asking… what do you remember? _ ’

I kick myself mentally before I receive a response.

_ ‘Well… I mean, it’s a lot of ins and outs, but mostly I remember your voice coming through and a lot of dark like, space or smth.’ _

_ Okay _ , I think.  _ I might actually be in the clear if that’s all he remembers _ . I think that too soon.

_ ‘I feel like I should remember smth else but idk. I would ask but it might seem stupid.’ _

A heavy gulp catches in my throat as I type out my response.

_ ‘No, go ahead! No question is stupid.’ _

I wait with baited breath.

_ ‘Okay, well… did you say something about your favorite band being like All Time Low or something?’ _

I breathe out a sigh of relief.

‘ _ Yeah, I did :) Why do you ask?’ _

From there on out, the conversation stays normal. We talk about bands, music, television, et cetera, et cetera. Eventually he asks if I want to hang out with him some time, including--maybe--Mike and Cal. I hesitate at the thought. I mean, if he doesn’t remember, nothing bad will come from this. I doubt Calum or Michael saw what happened. They could have, though; that’s where the hesitation comes from. In the end, I agree. Something fun may actually come out of this… I hope.

  
  
  



End file.
